Fortune's Loss
by Lady Tanarion
Summary: It’s hard to resist the call of a pirate... In fact, it’s downright impossible, especially when manacled and held for ransom. Bloody pirates.
1. Absit Invidia

Title: Absit Invidia - No Offense Intended

Author: Tanarion

Series: Part One of Fortune's Loss

Disclaimer: I not be owning it, yo.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Slash. Be afeared, etc. Nothing graphic as of this moment, but I may change my mind later on...

Pairing(s): Captain Jack Sparrow/ Commodore James Norrington, plus a few others and (gasp) a heterosexual couple! Shocking, I know.

Summary: It's hard to resist the call of a pirate... In fact, it's downright impossible, especially when manacled and held for ransom. Bloody pirates.

Archive: Fanfiction. Net, the _Parley Archive_ (the parley archive. net), and the _High Seas Archive_ (melethryn. net/ highseas/)

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Go read **The Mad Fangirl**'s fanfiction at the _High Seas Archive_. Funniest thing ever! Bit of a cross-over with Buffy, which was highly amusing. 

Ripper! (bounce)

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Absit Invidia

_No Offense Intended_

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Commodore Norrington stood on the rolling deck, wanting to grind his teeth in fury and complete annoyance. "Your terms, Mr. Sparrow." 

"_Captain_ Sparrow, savvy? Now, 'm afraid I missed that first part, what was it?" The mad pirate swished his way over to the other man with a smirk. He was obviously enjoying the circumstances very much.

The Commodore was standing on the deck of the famed _Black Pearl_, alongside a few of his officers, their hands bound with rope yet his were chained. He had briefly wondered if that was a sort of twisted compliment at the time. The _Dauntless_ floated, barely, in the background, listing a bit to one side. The black scorch marks and cannon holes marring her former beauty pained him to even glance in her direction.

The sheer irony of it all was that the _Pearl_ hadn't even caused the harm! They had been in search of the formerly cursed ship, but had stumbled across a small pirate fleet. The _Dauntless_ outgunned them all, of course, but they had, by sheer force of numbers, managed to cause quite a bit of damage. She had barely been able to limp away from the site of the battle, let alone sail all the way back to Port Royal. Which was where she had been headed when the _Black Pearl_ found them. They hadn't even been able to defend themselves and were captured quite easily.

Norrington's shoulder ached abominably and he could feel a headache building in his left temple. "Your _terms_, Mr. Sparrow," he growled angrily.

Considering that he was the winner this time, and could afford to be gracious, Jack seemed to let that pass. He tilted his head to the side with a whimsical smile. "What terms 'd that be then? Seein' as how you've rather little to bargain with, it would appear that you and your lovely crew," he bowed with a flourish to the other captives, "are completely in me power." Sparrow's crew were also on deck, armed with various swords, knives and pistols. They grinned unpleasantly at Norrington and his men.

Pulse throbbing painfully at his temples, the Commodore sincerely regretting ever giving the other man his 'one day head start.' "What do you _want_, Mr. Sparrow?"

Jack immediately straightened, beaming broadly and did a little spin, after which he flung his arms out wide. "I thought ye'd never ask!" Mad, mad, INSANE pirate!

Resisting the urge to howl in utter exasperation, Norrington replied, "_And_?" By God in Heaven, had he died in that fight with the pirates and this was to be his hell?

The Pirate Captain didn't answer for a moment, instead going to the railing beside him, leaning against it with his arms crossed on his chest. As Norrington was coming to expect from him, Sparrow completely disregarded any idea of personal space. The Commodore grit his teeth and refused to move away, even though his proximity distracted him.

He was so close! And did the man ever bathe? Norrington had to admit that he didn't exactly smell like flowers, either, after six months at sea, with fresh water saved for drinking only. But still. It was the principal of the thing after all!

Bloody pirates.

"Should think what I intend to do's quite obvious, love." A flash of golden teeth. "You're a rather important man in Port Royal, I hear tell. Good friend o' the Gov'nor, protector of the weak and whatnot. Defender of the British waters..." Jack gestured widely with a hand, narrowly missing striking Norrington's arm as he did so. He then turned his head to look into the other man's eyes, a wicked look in his gaze. "How much do ye think they'd pay to have their dear Commodore returned to 'em?"

Norrington jerked upright and stared at the pirate in shock. "Ransom? You're going to _ransom_ me?"

Jack threw up his hands in seeming defeat. "You said it, not me."

The Commodore wondered how long he'd live if he tried to strangle Sparrow right there and then. But then again, he'd probably be shot before any lasting harm was caused, so it would be rather pointless... Pity.

"And my men?"

Thankfully, Jack appeared to skip the dance around words and cut straight to the heart of the matter. "Y'see, love, therein lies me problem. We can't rightly take all your men with us, considerin' the limited food supply, but we can't just leave 'em behind to follow us sneaky-like neither." He tilted his head to the side, resembling his bird namesake. "Can y'see where I'm a little stumped? Now, the smartest thing for me'n my crew is t' just take care of them... otherwise... if y' get my meaning."

Norrington clenched his fists around the chains holding his wrists, his feelings of horror shifting into righteous fury. "If you dare harm my men..." he trailed off with a warning of retribution. Painful retribution. Yes.

Sparrow didn't look at him, keeping his gaze locked with the damaged _H.M.S. Dauntless_. He had an unaccountably grim look on his face. "If you've a better idea, Commodore, I'd love t'hear it."

So that was how it was to be then? So be it. A small voice in his mind screamed at the foolishness of trusting a pirate, but... the look on the other man's face said otherwise. A pirate the man might be, but he'd never once lied. Not once.

Then what was left for him to do was... figure out what he could trade for the lives of his men. James felt a trickle of sweat slide down his collarbone into the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the pounding in his skull was as strong as ever. _Think_, man! He didn't bother to wonder if he could arrange his own release; his men were more important and the odds that Jack Sparrow would let him go were virtually nonexistent.

Money? Not likely. They were already pushing it to ask for a ransom for him. And Jack was not stupid, either, no matter what he tried to pretend. If Norrington offered money from his own purse, they would have no real insurance that he would actually follow through once he'd been returned.

If they returned him.

He pushed that thought away; it was no time to worry about that. What he needed was something to bargain- something that the benefits would be obvious right at the beginning. And then he knew.

Bloody hell.

"Sparrow!" he hissed.

"Have y'got it then?"

James motioned the other man closer, ignoring the heavy rattle of the chains around his wrists. At the curious look on the pirate's face he explained quietly. "I don't want anyone else hearing this."

Jack's face cleared, and obligingly, he leaned close, and then closer still when the Commodore gestured to do so. Their faces were mere inches away, when Norrington grabbed Sparrow's collar and jerked him closer, so their bodies were flush against each other and whispered harshly in the pirate's ear. "If my men are harmed I will haunt you to your grave," and shoved Sparrow away even as he pulled the man's pistol from his belt.

The Captain was thrown against a barrel, but managed to keep himself from falling. The only female on board, a strong, black woman, elbowed a crewmember sharply in the gut when he started to take aim at the Commodore. "We need 'im, stupid!"

Sparrow raised a hand, forestalling any other moves his crew might make. He smiled at James. It was not a very pleasant smile. "Just how, exactly, is this going t'help the situation you and your men find yourselves, _Commodore_? Attack me, and you'll be shot full 'o holes faster than you can blink." He spread his hands wide, as if to say _now what?_

With a bleak smile, Norrington replied. "You know, Mr. Sparrow, you are correct. Absolutely correct. It would serve no one's purpose to shoot you now." His smile widened, and more than one person on deck looked as if they thought he'd lost his mind. "But tell me, Mr. Sparrow, how do you intend to get your ransom money..." he cocked the pistol and very firmly set the end under his chin, "...if I'm dead?"

He rather enjoyed how the expression on the Jack's face turned from smug certainty to consternation. Lovely sight, that.

The pirate's jaw worked and he was obviously trying to keep a hold of himself, but failed. "You-you _stupid_ bloody-I can't be_lieve_ this!" He vented his annoyance with a childish stamp. "You're worse than Will, you are!"

"You're not exactly helping your case, you know," Norrington commented dryly. Then that dark woman started cursing at him in a heavily Cajun French dialect and his eyes widened. "Madame- I highly doubt that that is physically possible, even if I were that flexible."

Her mouth snapped shut and she shot him a surprised look.

By that time, the pirate Captain seemed to have come to a decision. "What are your terms, Commodore?"

The fingers gripping the pistol relaxed slightly. "Would you like the long or short version?"

Sparrow half-bowed and flourished an arm. "By all means."

"My terms are simple enough. I want my men to remain unharmed- by you _and_ your crew. Nor are you to _cause_ harm to them." Jack gave a cautious nod and he continued. "And don't you dare sink my ship, pirate! As damaged as it is, she can hardly float, let alone follow the _Black Pearl_ 'sneaky like' as you said. Not to mention the fact that you need someone to inform Governor Swann of your plans." He raised an eyebrow, knowing he was correct.

Muttering a curse under his breath, Jack crossed his arms and heaved a sigh. "All right, I admit you've a point there."

"Those are my terms, Mr. Sparrow. Take them or leave them."

Then it was the pirate's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're not going to ask for your own release then?"

"I'm not a fool, Mr. Sparrow. Terms are supposed to be plausible, remember?"

Arms still crossed, Jack looked at the Commodore thoughtfully. Slowly, a grin spread across his lips, making James' eyes narrow suspiciously. "That's true enough, Commodore. A fool you most certainly are not." He clapped his hands together, making nearly everyone on deck jump. "I swear on th' _Black Pearl_ 'erself that your crew are to not be harmed in anyway, or your ship if," he held up an admonishing finger, "and only if you agree not to harm yourself or try to escape. Savvy?"

Norrington frowned, but couldn't deny that the pirate had the right to demand such. He sighed. The things a man does for the sake of duty... "I do 'savvy' Mr. Sparrow."

"Then we have an accord?" Gingerly, Jack extended a hand to shake, seemingly a little fearful of the Commodore's reaction.

Realizing the cause, James snorted. Instead, he placed the gun on the other man's upturned palm. "We have an accord."

Sparrow stepped back, looking very pleased with himself. "Flick, Matthew- please escort the Commodore to his new quarters. I think the brig'll do nicely, don't you?"

Two members of the crew, supposedly the ones the Captain had called on, stepped forward, smirking. They each grabbed an arm, apparently intent on dragging him to his new prison if need be. The pain in his shoulder flared and his vision went white for a moment. "H-hold, Sparrow!" he managed to grind out.

"What is it, dear Commodore? Complaints about your lodgings?"

"My men. I need to give them their orders."

Jack blinked, obviously not expecting that. He gave Norrington another of his thoughtful, assessing looks and nodded.

"Gillette!"

"Sir! He's... he's not here." One of the other officer's replied. Who- ah, Groves. A fine, upstanding navy man, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"Congratulations."

"Sir?" The young man looked puzzled.

"First Lieutenant Groves, the ship is yours."

"Sir- I'm not the first Lieutenant..."

"You are now." The officer flushed and nodded, trying to salute despite his bound hands. "Take the ship to the nearest port with all speed." All speed possible, anyway. Norrington suppressed a sigh. "Do not make any detours and under no conditions are you to follow the _Black Pearl_." He ignored Sparrow's snort. "Is that clear?" Groves nodded relunctantly.

And then 'Flick' and 'Matthew' ever so kindly and gently threw him into the brig.

"Bloody pirates!" Norrington snarled once they'd left. Not he could really blame Sparrow. How many times had he been responsible for the pirate's incarceration? He winced at the thought. But still! It was no way to treat a hostage... Damn Sparrow anyway. He was to spend god knew how long in such a dank prison, with nothing but a rotten wood bench and piss-bucket. Was he even going to get any amenities at all?

James scowled around at his filthy surroundings that smelled as if someone had died recently. And where the hell was he expected to sleep? Although, at that moment, he'd have been satisfied with a simple glass of water. His mouth was as dry as an archeology professor's lectures and his tongue kept on sticking to the roof of his mouth. Norrington swallowed convulsively.

And although he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, the mere thought of food made his stomach roll. It had to be the smell of the brig...

And was it just him, or was it stifling hot below deck? The Commodore loosened his cravat. After a moment's consideration, he pulled it off completely. At least he didn't have to worry about his hat... Stupid parrot had stolen it not even two minutes after he'd been forced to come on board.

Damn heat- he was practically sweat soaked. Norrington frowned, pulling his shirt open a bit to check the bandage on his shoulder. It was a rather bad cut he'd gotten during the battle with the pirate fleet, and it had been paining him ever since. The events of the day hadn't exactly helped the healing process, either.

And to top it all off his wig itched! Finding himself completely run out of patience, James ripped the wig off and flung it away from himself angrily. A sudden wash of dizziness swept over him and he grabbed a bar to keep from falling over. Maybe he'd gotten heatstroke up on deck.

Norrington's gaze fell on one of the hairpins that had been scattered across the floor when his wig had taken flight. Slowly, he started to smirk.

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TBC 


	2. Bella Gerant Alii

See Chapter One

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_I know, I know. I changed the title again... I seem to keep on doing that! First Fortune and Men's Eyes was the name of my Harry Potter fic, then I changed it back to what it was originally and gave the name to this fic, and then I decided I liked Fortune's Loss better... Sorry. I really will try to not do it again. (runs away from Sorano)_

_At potcfandom. com I read news that there will in fact be a sequel to PotC: The Black Pearl. In fact, supposedly there will be TWO, both filmed at the same time. I seem very calm about it now, but if you had seen me when I'd first found out... scary. I squawked the news to anyone willing to listen and bounced around the house squealing like the obsessed fangirl I am._

_AND there's supposed to be a Captain Jack Sparrow action figure coming out. I want it yo!_

_And another really awesome thing, although I'm probably the only one who cares, was that I found the original script for PotC. And Norrington was actually the one who set Jack free! XD_

_What happened was that instead of switching the scene from the boats to Jack about to be hung, it was Will on trial._

_**Norrington**: ...and though I do say so with regret, the law is clear. The penalty for piracy is death by hanging._

_**Governor Swann**: (Liz squeezes his hand and he stands up) By your leave I wish to speak on behalf of the boy. (glances at Liz) It is clear that these deeds were performed out of a sincere desire to do good, at great personal risk. It seems to me, that in the rare occasion where the right course is committing an act of piracy, then an act of piracy is the right course (cheers of approval) So in my capacity as Governor I intend to grant pardon to-_

_**Gillette**: Sir! (all eyes turn to Gillette, standing at the top of a stairway) Jack and his crew have escaped (gasps from the crowd) There was no damage to the cell... they must have been set free._

_**Liz**: (exchanges looks with Will._ You? Not me, you? No, not me either!

_**Swann**: (points) The Black Pearl! (everyone rushes to the parapet to see)_

_**Jack**: (swings from the rocks onto the ship)_

_**Gillette**: Sir! Shall I break out the cannons?_

_**Norrington**: I don't think that will be necessary. (raises a hand... twirls a key on his finger) A day's head start. That's all he gets._

_And then it takes on where the movie was, with Jack being all captainy and then singing the pirate song. No one else cares, but I think it's awesome that it was Jamie who set Jack free originally! But I guess they thought it would have made the Commodore too nice. Heaven _forbid_ they allow him to be more than a man of ice! Gah. I hope he has a good part in the next movies._

_(cough) Ok, I'm done gushing. Have you noticed I'm obsessed? I thought I noticed you noticing._

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This chapter's story pimp goes out to **Webcrowmancer**. Quite possibly the most prolific Sparrington writer of all time, Webcrow is god. She's the whole reason why I got into Sparrington in the first place and her fics rock. 

You can find her stories at the _Parley Archive (theparleyarchive. net)._

Sadly, she has decided to take a break from writing fanfiction for the moment, but she'll be back when the next PotC movie comes out. No one could resist. As it is, all of her (many many many) fics are completed, so at least she hasn't left us hanging. :P

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Bella Gerent Alii

_Let Others Wage War_

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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE!" 

Matthew cringed back from his Captains wrath. "It... he wasn't there, Cap'n! I swear I looked, but he's gone."

Jack Sparrow struggled to contain his irritation and keep a hold on his temper. "Let's just... take a little look ourselves, hm?" In little enough time he was at the stairs, peering into the hold where the ship's captives were kept. Matthew was right- the Commodore was not in the brig! He could see a flash of white that had to be the man's wig. Jack didn't think Norrington would go anywhere without it, but go he must have. The manacles were on the floor and the door open.

Sparrow whirled around, almost colliding with Matthew who had been at his heels. "Search the ship! I want every inch inspected!"

He wanted to stomp up the stairs and back to his cabin to indulge in a fit of sulking. What was it that made Navy men the most exasperating, annoying men on the planet? He descended further down the stairs and entered the hold.

The brig was really only two rather large cages built into the ship, one on each side. Perhaps there were clues to the man's disappearance in the left one, where he'd been installed. He moved across the floor, swaying with the ship, but stopped when he thought he'd heard something.

"...Bloody pirates..." Jack _knew_ he'd heard that. Just where... There. At the very back was a small table in the shadows. And seated at the table was the sought-after Commodore.

Sparrow growled. He was going to give that man a piece of his mind! He stalked over, fully prepared for a good rant and for the second time stopped mid-step. Norrington was slouched over the table, apparently without the energy to sit properly as he usually did. His eyes didn't seem to be able to focus on the pirate and Jack wasn't entirely sure the other man even knew he was there.

He cursed silently, fluidly, for a few moments. The last thing he needed- ! The Captain placed the back of his hand to Norrington's forehead and it was undoubtedly hot; much hotter than it should be.

"MATTHEW! Get Anamaria!"

_

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_

_It was dark._

_He knew it wasn't a dream, because his dreams never had this... emptiness. Empty of light, empty of anything._

_Where was he?_

_Something... there was something. What was it? Something was calling him... Who? Bronze skin, a golden smile, eyes beckoning you into sin..._

_The darkness was lifting._

"Looks like 'e's finally wakin' up."

_Now it was nothing but a thin fog shrouding his view. There was colour all around him._

James opened his eyes.

"Well, well. Look who's returned to the land of the living." Sparrow, seated at a chair nearby, realized what he'd said and winced. "Never mind." He coughed. Moving on then.

Frankly, it was about time Norrington woke up. Unconscious for so long, really, it was much less entertaining then Jack had thought it would be, having a Commodore on board. Not to mention it had been a ruddy bitch to lug all that dead weight up to his cabin. If it hadn't been for Anamaria's threats, he might well have left the man down there to rot.

The Commodore looked at him blearily, eyes only now starting to focus on the room around him. Jack grinned, wondering what the oh-so-proper Norrington thought of his (ahem) humble pirate abode.

It was a rather spacious cabin- or rather, it would have been if it weren't for the very large bed occupying most of the space. It had fine silk sheets and a rich velvet cover, which James had better damn well appreciate since he was the one who'd been sleeping on it!

Beyond the bed was an elegantly carved little table at which Sparrow was sitting. Cupboards and shelves lined the starboard wall, while the other three were nearly covered with various paintings, tapestries, and a beautifully made map depicting the Atlantic Ocean and the lands bordering it. Between two particularly lovely tapestries, one of a mermaid and the other a coiled Chinese dragon, stood the door, currently closed.

And the Commodore turned his gaze to Jack, scrutinizing him in that intense way he seemed to do everything. His grin widened- and what would proud James make of _him_? Not the scruffy brigand he appeared to be before, oh no. No longer on the run, searching for his _Pearl_, not knowing when his next meal would be found. Freedom agreed with Sparrow, much like the bird he was named for.

The matted hair was gone, replaced by a multiple braids; the look was reminiscent of his former dreadlocks, only more manageable. The trinkets adorning his hair were still there, more or less. A few lost, some new. And his old bandana re-dyed and looking as good a new- not that he'd tell anyone why he'd gone through such trouble when it would have been easier to just steal a fresh one. The rest of his attire was also new: a nice, cream shirt, deep brown vest, a proper leather belt, a pair of tan breeches, and a navy blue coat.

"Like, what y' see, love?"

James flushed. Angry, perhaps, at being caught staring so openly. "Hardly, Mr. Sparrow," he replied coldly. They stared silently at each other for a long moment. Jack considered holding it out just to see how long it took for one of them to break, but that would serve no purpose. The other man was ill after all, so he shouldn't taunt him. Much.

Finally, Sparrow broke the silence. "You've been out for th' past two days," he informed his 'guest.'

Apparently that wasn't the response Norrington was expecting. The officer blinked and cleared his throat. "That... that long?" As if he couldn't quite believe he was participating in a conversation with a pirate that didn't involve hanging, or other such bodily harm.

"Aye." Jack sat back and fitted himself more comfortably to the chair, propping his elbows on the arms. "Now, I've a bit of a wonder, Norrie." Pretending to ignore the way James bristled at that, he steepled his fingers before him and continued. "A fine ship like your _Dauntless_, First-rate ship-of-the-line 'n all- seems to me she'd 'ave a surgeon." He fixed the other man with a keen gaze. "Any decent healer would've seen the state of wound-rot y' got yourself into."

The Commodore didn't reply immediately, remaining silent for a long moment, but finally seemed to decide that there was no real harm in explaining. "He's dead. He... died in cannon fire."

Ah. That explained it. "M' sympathies, mate. And th' same battle 'n which your _Dauntless_ got such damages, I expect. Not to mention that li'l cut o' yours." Sparrow gave the bandage on Norrington's shoulder a pointed look and the other man gave a cautious nod in confirmation. Again, the pirate pretended to ignore the expression on James' face; this time, though, it was of pain and Jack didn't think it was because of his injury.

"Well!" The pirate said suddenly, changing the mood to one more cheerful. "You're well on th' mend, thanks to our own lovely Anamaria- and m' self, of course," Jack added modestly. Modest-ish.

"Anamaria?" Norrington asked, looking surprised. "The woman?"

Jack straightened a bit, fully prepared to defend his crew. "Woman or not, don't be thinkin' that she's any less capable, jus' 'cause she's a woman," he warned the other man.

Unexpectedly, the Commodore flapped a hand, as if that were a given. "I don't doubt her skills, but she doesn't appear to have the sort of... temperament... one usually sees in a surgeon."

Sparrow snorted. "Ana's never been exactly what y' call predictable."

"Hmm," James only said in reply. Jack shot a look at him, and saw how the other man's eyes were starting to drift shut. Well, that was hardly surprising after being unconscious for two days, and in the throws of a very high fever during most of that time.

The pirate got up quietly, tiptoed out of the room and, after a moment's thought, locking the cabin door behind him. Safety precautions and all. Then he went and shooed Monty away from the wheel, so he could stand at the helm. The pirate had never lost the thrill he got from being behind the wheel, after having been without for ten long years.

It helped him think, too. And he had a lot to think about. Hm... "Gibbs!" Jack hollered.

"Aye, Cap'n?" The Quartermaster stood respectfully to the side of him.

"Y' used t' serve under Norrington, did y' not?"

Gibbs gave a cautious nod. "On the crossing from England. He were first Lieutenant then."

Sparrow was silent for a bit, smoothing the wood beneath his hands. "And what did y' make of him then?"

"An upright man, now as then. Very... proper. As proper as it gets."

"Mast up his arse even then, aye?"

"Aye," Gibbs had to agree. "But... not a bad man, no. He demanded much from us, but nothing he weren't willing to work for, himself. And if he always stuck by rank and propriety, outside them limits he were a good master. Knew everyone of the lads' names, he did, down to the cooper and the marines."

Jack eyebrow's rose. On board a ship like the Dauntless, there could be anywhere from eight hundred and fifty crewmembers to over nine hundred. Norrington must have a mind like a sponge to remember all that...

"Asked after their wives, even, them that had 'em." The older man shrugged. "Is that what y' wanted to know, Cap'n?"

"Aye." He gave the man a sidelong look. "Thank ye." Clearly a dismissal.

Well. That was certainly interesting... Sparrow rather thought he'd been underestimating the Commodore the entire time. The expression on his face turned wry as he remembered the other man's escape from the brig. Oh yes. Definitely.

The pirate gave the Pearl a fond pat before squinting at the sky. By the position of the sun, it was just about dinner. Norrington would be positively ravenous after two days without proper food. But... Jack didn't want to give her up just yet, so Norrie would just have to make due without him. After all, he had already given up his bed, and quite a bit of his time nursing the Commodore back to health. Sparrow scowled; Norrington had better be grateful- he was beginning to regret ever having come up with that bloody ransom scheme.

But nothing he could do about it at the moment. Now... which of the crew was least likely to take it into his (or her, in the case of Anamaria) head that a good Commodore was a dead Commodore?

"Cal!"

"Cap'n?" The boy replied almost immediately. It always spooked Sparrow just how fast that boy was to show up. Honestly, it was if the lad could read minds half the time! No matter. Cal was still young enough for the grandeur of the navy to not yet have worn off- and a complete prick with that lovely Turner blade of his shoved up his arse Norrington may be, it was also true that the man was damn impressive, even ill and half-conscious.

_That_ thought took his mind down interesting paths, but he shoved it aside to mull over later.

"Lad, the Commodore'll be needin' a meal. Be a love and get it for 'im, eh?"

Cal blushed becomingly and nodded. "Aye, Cap'n!" Would you believe he actually _saluted_ before running off? Jack shook his head in mock sorrow. What were cabin boys coming to these days! Doing his duty so earnestly... It wasn't natural.

Hm. Reminded him rather a lot of Will, actually.

* * *

_Oneiriad - I agree completely. Too much Sparrington? HAH! I scoff at the mere thought. Sneaky!Norrington is fun, but at this point it's more like bloody-irritated-and-wanting-Sparrow-to-get-his-comeuppance!Norrington._

_Raphe1 - My characterizations are marvellous? (fans self) Stop, you're making me blush! And we will see just how Jack puts up with a sick Jamie. (evil grin) Updating as fast as I can- and I've fixed the bit about the manacles. Thanks for correcting me!_

_HieiTheDarkGem - Don't worry, Jamie'll be ok. Ish. (smirk)_

_Authoress Pendragon - Yay another long review! I love long reviews. :D Thanks for thinking my writing style's that good, but really, you have nothing to be jealous of. I'm the one who should be jealous, you know! Your stories are always so detailed- I wish I could write with such knowledge of the characters and the story._

_p.s. Savvy savvy savvy savvy savvy. XP Savvy?_

_karachi - Congratulations! You have succeeded in making me bounce around, squealing like a little girl that I was recommended by someone I don't even know, at a place I've never heard of! I am now a very happy little authoress . I am HIGHLY flattered- and I want to join that group now. I searched for it under yahoo groups, but I couldn't seem to find it... do you think you could possible link it to me?_

_Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed reading my story :D. And now there IS another chapter! Read ahead. ._

_Mundungus42 - "three-demonic-giggle-inspiring" ? I don't even know what that means but it make me giggle. XP Plot twistiness? Really? Cool!_

_Applesauce - ... (sweatdrop) No, actually I didn't. Gillette is NOT DEAD! I repeat, NOT DEAD! He's alive and kicking. Well, maybe not kicking. He's injured. But he's there. He just couldn't be brought on board the Pearl... but we will be seeing him and Groves again, trust me. I have plans for those boys. Nyeheheh._

_You know, I've never been called a fiend before. It's a new experience. :laughs: That's actually rather fun. XD_

_Julie - I love it when people specify the parts of the story they like. You now officially rock my socks yo._

_You're welcome._

_pirategrrl - Lol :P. Hint taken._

_Lady Lorax - Thank you for saying so. BTW, if you intend to use the contraction of 'you are,' it's 'you're' rather than 'your'._

_BJ4 - Heh. That reminded me of the scene where Jack tells Jamie that's he was rooting for him. Also, I love that you used the word snarky. That is one of the most fun words on the planet. Oh, and I'm glad that you liked the story thus far!_

_The Mad Fangirl - AH! (puts hands to flaming cheeks) I can't believe you've actually reviewed for one of my stories! You are totally one of my heroes when it comes to PotC slash! And you're welcome for the plug. How about really thanking me by finishing Taxes 8? Hm? (grin grin nudge nudge)_

_No one else thought of the hairpins? Really? Shocking. Well, I suppose since the majority of the main characters don't really wear wigs, and most people wouldn't assume that Jamie could pick locks... (smirk) Commodores are versatile... especially MY Commodore. Nyahahaha..._

_BTW "Greg's" family is actually really cool. I hope we see more of them later on. And the fact that Bill looks like Giles made me crack up. Speaking of Ripper- do we see more of him as well? Perhaps in conjunction with Ethan...:P_

_BlackJackSilver - Thank you. And, you know, Blackjack is one of my favourite card games to play..._

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TBC 


	3. Cum Grano Salis

See Chapter One

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_Wow, the response I've gotten to this fic is amazing. I'm very flattered and thrilled that there are so many slash fans. XP_

_You know, I'm turning out chapters for this fic a lot faster than for any other story I've written. XP I guess y'all are just so inspiring._

_I have decided that it makes no sense to have Jack and Jamie's POV spread out like this... So I fixed it. Adding them on to the other chapters. Some editing was done, but nothing major changed, so no worries in case you think you have to re-read it again._

_WARNING: Things get a little heavy in this chapter. Honestly, if anyone thinks I should up rating to R, please tell me. I don't want it to be known that I mis-rate!_

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Story pimp to **Raphe1**! You can find her works on fanfiction. net or theparley archive. net, I believe. On her fanfiction. net account, she has mostly oneshots- which are awesome! 'Four Sheets To The Wind' is hilarious, and I recommend it to anyone who likes Sparrington. And if you don't, what on earth are you doing here? o.O

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!READ THIS! 

I just want to let everyone know that Sorano (also known as 'Authoress Pendragon") is the most wonderful, lovely person I have ever met. She was nice enough to help me with the steamy pieces of this chapter. X3 She rocks the socks into outer space, man. (glomps Sorano) You never told me if you would marry me or not, muffin! The wedding could be in Holland- it's legal there. XD

And so, this chapter is entirely thanks to Sorano, and I just want you all to know that the especially lovely, yummy bits are hers. (bows down in worship to the Goddess that she is)

!READTHIS!

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Cum Grano Salis

_With a Grain of Salt_

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James came awake all at once when he heard the door being kicked shut. Unlike earlier that day, he knew exactly where he was, and why. So it was hardly surprising that he really didn't want to open his eyes in order to confirm it. 

"Oy... ye awake, sir?" Not Sparrow's voice. His eyes flew open.

Standing by the bed was a young boy, perhaps of twelve years, with bright red hair, but he didn't have the fair skin usually associated with it. The lad had very bright, sparkling blue eyes and was nearly bursting with energy.

Norrington groaned inwardly.

"Cap'n Jack said t' bring dinner to ye, sir." Only then did the Commodore notice the tray of food being held by the boy. As if that recognition had signaled it, James' stomach growled. Well _that_ was rather embarrassing, and he almost didn't get his Commodore face on in time to catch the blush that wanted to spread over his cheeks.

The boy looked pleased, for some reason, and as Norrington struggled to sit up properly he placed the tray on the bed beside him. "M' name's Cal, sir. If'n ye need anythin'..."

Cal stood there, looking for all the world as if there were no place he'd rather be. "Ah... thank you, no." And the boy didn't move. The Commodore cleared his throat, but that didn't work either. How was he supposed to eat with that child staring at him? "Is... is there something you want?"

Rocking slightly on his toes, Cal looked as if he was holding something in. He burst out, "Is it true ye fought Mad Barbosa 'n his undead crew on the Isla de Muerta?"

"Yes, I suppose-"

"And' yer Navy crew was scared like liddle babes an' hid below deck, so ye was fightin' 'em alone-"

"That's not exactly-"

"-an' winnin'! Ye was hackin' left an' right wi' yer magic sword an' cuttin' through their bones like butter 'till they was even more 'fraid o' you than Mad Barbosa an' some 'o them even went an' hid below wi' yer crew they was so scared-"

"I don't-"

"-an' ye beat 'em even worser when Cap'n Jack broke the curse an' they could die proper. But then ye captured Cap'n Jack, but that's all right 'cause he escaped 'cause he's the luckiest man in the world," Cal finished.

"...Is he?" James could only reply weakly.

The boy nodded solemnly. "No one's luckier 'n Cap'n Jack, 'cept maybe you."

"Me?"

"Yer the only one who's ever caught him _twice_. He's got caught a bunch o' times but he always gets away an' they can never get him again, only ye _did_ get him again! Nobody's as good a pirate catcher-er as ye."

"...Is that so..."

"That's why they call ye _Lobo del Mar_, the Wolf of the Sea, 'cause once ye get the scent 'o a man ye never rest 'till ye've got 'im." Suddenly, Cal cocked his head the side, as if he was hearing something. "I've got t' go now- 'ope ye have a nice dinner." And like that, he was gone.

James shook his head in disbelief. He'd thought no one could possible be crazier than Sparrow, but apparently he was wrong.

Well. The food was getting cold, so he picked up the bowl, filled with some sort of stew (he decided not to question the contents too closely) and began to eat.

_Lobo del Mar_? Heh.

After a while, James finished his dinner, and was no longer sleepy. In fact, he was wide-awake... and bored out of his mind. He couldn't even get out of the bed without falling over with dizziness! So what was he supposed to do?

The Commodore had already memorized the carvings on the bed's headboard (grapes vines with a three-inch crack in the top left panel), not to mention what he could see of the room. He fairly itched to see what was in some of those cupboards.

So he spent his time debating with himself whether or not it counted as sin to violate the privacy of a pirate. He rather suspected it was, but he _really_ wanted to know what was poking half out of the one cupboard on the right. And in the midst remembering that if he got up his head would spin, Sparrow entered.

The pirate glanced at the empty plate, "Finished, ey?" and without so much as a by-your-leave, bent over Norrington to reach the tray beside him. Humming a sea tune under his breath.

James resisted the urge to recoil away from the other man. He refused to show any such weakness! Well, any _more_ weakness, he realized. The _Pearl_'s Captain had already seen him ill and unconscious. And that wasn't even bringing up the part about sharing company with the pirate and he was rather less than fully dressed... Unintentional and unavoidable though it was.

It made him feel distinctively uncomfortable; the thought that he was in Sparrow's presence wearing only a shirt.

Jack set the tray on the floor outside the door with a loud clink of silverware (and it _was_ silver- stolen, no doubt) afterwards making a great show of dusting his hands off, as if it had been some difficult task.

Norrington wanted to roll his eyes. Did the pirate ever stop playacting?

Turning with a bit of a swish, Sparrow made his way over the same table he had sat at before, this time leaning against the chair. He shot James a smug sort of grin that was especially annoying. "Enjoyin' your stay, Commodore?"

More than a bit aggravated at the whole situation, Norrington frowned. "The hospitality is somewhat lacking, Mr. Sparrow," and he put a chill in his voice to demonstrate just how much that hospitality lacked.

Sparrow slipped off the side of the chair, stumbling slightly. "Lacking? _Lacking?_ Why, y' ruddy bleater! It seems t' _me_ that you've been rightly treated, _and_ your crew- which is more 'n I could say for me 'n mine if it'd been us captured!"

James shifted uncomfortably, knowing it to be true. But he'd only wanted to wipe that smirk off the other man's face. "_I_ happen to be a member of the King's Royal Navy." It sounded weak, even to his own ears. He remembered the multiple times Sparrow had been locked behind bars, and couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't still in the brig.

Jack snorted. "Royal Navy... bah! More like a Royal pain 'n the arse!" He glowered darkly at the Commodore. "Damned unappreciative man, y' are. An' sleepin' in me own bed, no less!"

Gesturing expansively at the bed, Norrington retorted, "You are _free_ to amend your decision, of course."

"What, are y' _tryin_' to get Ana t' kill me? If y' budge so much 's 'n inch, she'll have _all_ our hides."

The Commodore crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. "How tragic." The entire exchange felt childish. It was like they were adolescents again, each trying to overcome the other. Norrington had the sneaking suspicion that he might actually be... enjoying himself. Enjoying the battle.

Then he wondered what kind of pain-killer that woman had given him, exactly. That sort of reaction couldn't be normal.

"Well, _fine_," the pirate growled. "I've had enough." He firmly removed his vest and startedpulling offhis shirt.

James' eyes opened wide. "W-what do you think you're doing?"

"_I_ am pr'paring m'self for bed, if y' must know."

"What- you can't! Not here!" He clutched the blankets around him, as if to keep the bed and its contents away from the other man.

"Can. Will." Jack gave him a look, eyebrow raised slightly, which said as plainly as day,_ pirate!_ He finished undressing, folded and set the clothes on the chair with the boots chucked underneath.

Realizing the Captain would not be deterred, Norrington scooted to the far side of the bed as Sparrow settled beneath the covers, ignoring the pain that shot through his shoulder at the hurried movement. He regarded the other man warily, feeling trapped, cornered as he was between the wall of the cabin and _Jack_. Who, of course, was smirking wickedly and quite pleased with himself.

Bloody pirate.

And the man couldn't even be bothered to keep to one side of the bed, like a civilized being! Practically right in the middle, with no more than a foot between them. James pressed himself further against the wall, scowling.

That was the catch wasn't it? Sparrow just _wasn't_ civilized, though you'd have thought James would have noticed by then.

Strangely enough, the pirate didn't speak any further and Norrington certainly didn't say anything. So the silence stretched between them for what seemed like eternity. Sleep, at least, would be an escape from the quiet, but the Commodore realized that slumbering all day was not particularly conductive to a good night's rest. He was all slept out. And what was the time anyway? All he could see from the small port window was that it was night.

James frowned, rubbing his temple as he felt another headache build up. He was effectively caged in a bed... with a pirate. A very naked pirate. Caribbean heat, or no, it was no excuse to dress so unseemly! That is, no excuse to _be_ undressed in such an unseemly manner... or something.

He _really_ wanted to know what medication was in his system.

Sparrow suddenly rolled on his side, making Norrington start with surprise, and propped his chin on a fist, looking at the Commodore with a knowing stare. "Can't sleep either, eh?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I can't." he reluctantly acknowledged.

"Aye," the pirate said, agreeing. Although exactly what he was agreeing _with_ wasn't clear. "The question is, what shall we do t' entertain ourselves." He gestured expansively with is free arm, adding an extra wrist flick, and fixed James with a speculative gleam in his eyes.

Norrington couldn't help but follow the movement of that elegant wrist, noticing that Sparrow seemed to have a rather delicate bone structure, for a pirate. For a man, really. "I hardly care what a man of your reputation does in his free time," he began, but Jack interrupted.

"I've just the thing!" The Captain exclaimed, and rolled over right on top of him.

"Sparrow! What do you think- mmphff!" Good Lord, he was being kissed. By a pirate. By _Sparrow_! "Mmmphfff!" He tried to buck the other man off, but Jack was having none of that and kissed him all the firmer and Lord, but his lips were soft and coaxing. Nothing like a woman's for all that, because they were demanding and forceful. A man's kiss, was what it was and oh it felt good.

A part of his brain that was still functioning screamed at his unresponsive body to _do something,_ but another part informed it that they _were_ doing something, thank you very much, and that was enjoying the ride.

Then Jack (and now it was Jack?) was sliding his tongue along his lips and James opened his mouth inviting the pirate to make it a different sort of kiss all together. It was a fierce, shared instant; the scrapping of teeth, delving of tongue, wet, hot, and heart pounding. He could taste the hints of rum mingled with some exotic spiciness. The sensations overpowered him till his head was spinning dizzily.

Norrington couldn't hold in a moan that was absorbed by the other man's mouth and Jack chuckled wickedly.

A whirl of painful awareness registered the pirate moving a callused hand slowly sliding up James' bare thigh as he broke off the kiss to nibble right below his jaw line. Jack placed a sharper bite at his collarbone, and James nearly cried out from the sparks that shot through him.

Sparrow's hand slid across sensitized skin, across the hip and leaving a trail of fire in its wake, finally closed on its target. Impossibly hard, ready, throbbing.

It was such a jolt to his mind, that even as he groaned he realized just precisely what he was doing and whom he was doing it with. God no- yes!- no!- _stop_!

He put his hands to Jack's chest and gave a hard shove. Caught off guard, Jack went flying and rolled right off the bed, landing on the floor on his rather fine piratey arse.

"You- you-" James was trembling with reaction, and he told himself it was anger, but the needy pain between his legs told a different story. His breathing ragged and his thoughts scrambled, the Commodore shivered as he tried to get a grip on himself.

"Me?" Naked, laughing, the handsome devil of the sea, Jack Sparrow lifted himself off the floor and back onto the bed, moving to be right in Norrington's face. "Quite a pretty sight y' are Commodore," he informed the other man.

And a quick glance down told him that pretty sights ran below the belt too. But Jack wasn't suffering, James thought, nearly as much as he was. "That was uncalled for."

"Really? D' you think a pirate cares for what's called for 'r not?" His face was still close. Close enough for that rum steeped breath to caress James's hot skin. And before James could catch it Jack ran a feather touch over the blanket tent, enough to tease, enough to make sure nothing was cooling down anytime soon.

Swaggering into his trousers and fitting his shirt back on, Jack carelessly flapped his hand over his shoulder in farewell and walked out of the cabin. For all the world like his breath hadn't been as ragged and hitched as the Commodore's.

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_Oneiriad - Chapter two's first review! Yes, I'm sure we all feel at least a bit sorry for poor Jamie. How many more crazy pirates will be thrown at him? lol! But, yes, he will eventually enjoy his stay... Keyword: eventually._

_Authoress Pendragon - Yay Sorano! I always love your reviews. NEwayCal really is a cutie, huh? Hard to believe I totally came up with him on the spur-of-the-moment. But the story the Cal was talking about- that's not one of Jack's stories. Somehow I doubt Jack would view the Commodore in such a light, as of yet. The thing is, people talk, and sailors are horrible gossips (hello, what else is there to do when you're stuck at sea for months on end?) and the tale grows at each telling until the true event is completely unlike the story being told._

_BlackJackSilver - Looney little cabin boys are much fun. But then again, it's Jack. Close proximity to him seems to cause insanity. :P Rushing to slash... I like to think that that isn't possible for me. (sweatdrop) I'm writing quite a few stories, all of them slash, and I have still not yet gotten to the actual slash. I was actually trying to do it sooner in this fic. This chapter actually. But slash is different then them getting a relationship... which really won't be happening in a while. I think it will work out- let me know if it works, though, ok?_

_Raphe1 - I was hoping the imagery of that scene was good. Updating... still relatively soon._

_HieiTheDarkGem - lol._

_Applesauce - That's ok. We all tend to get a bit irrational over our guys. Yes, of course the Lieutenants will be coming up soon! I can't very well have this story without them, you know._

_insert funky name - Not quite my first review, but you're here. That's all that counts. The meaning of my chapter titles are written right in the title. "Bella Gerant Alii - Let Others Wage War." So "Belle Gerant Alii" means "Let Others Wage War." And it's Latin. I'm rather fond of Latin. My other story, a Harry Potter one, the chapter titles are also in Latin, but just the Latin Numbers. Primus, Secundus, Tertius... (first, second, third...)_

_Lady Lorax - No problem with the spelling! It was very late at night and I was running short on sleep. My bad. Sorry. (also pets James) He's very pet-able, no:P_

_Kitsune Arashi - (rolls eyes) You're such a pal._

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TBC 


	4. Dis Aliter Visum

See Chapter One

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I haven't been able to update as soon as I wanted, because my computer decided to be a total prick and crashed, thus losing every file I had saved on the computer. Including what I had written for this chapter. And then the new computer I got decided to not work as well! (insert screaming and howls of pure exasperation here) I finally have one that works now, so I should be able to get things done quicker, although I don't make any promises. School's started, and that makes getting anything done mucho harder.

There's a fight scene in this, and I'm unsure if it's any good. I'm way out of practice writing fights. Let me know if it works out!

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Ficpimp to **L.M. Griffin** for wonderful Sparrington, and giving amazing life to characters such as Lieutenants Gillette and Groves (known in her fics as "Bush"). Love her Lieutenants. They rock. So does James. Hell, they all rock. Writings can be found at FanFictionNet as L.M. Griffin, Noir Sensus in the Bella Donna section (NoirSensusCom/authors/almgriffin. Html) and also TheParleyArchive. Net.

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Dis Aliter Visum

_The Gods Decided Differently

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_

Jack drummed his fingertips against the wood of the Black Pearl's rail. Times like these, he thought, made one realize why avoiding the navy was the smart thing to do. What had possessed him to kidnap Norrington? Yes, yes, there was that possibility of all that lovely gold, but the Captain wasn't sure it was worth all the trouble!

First they had gone through that trouble of finding the man's ship (really they stumbled upon it, but who wanted to quibble over such a small thing?) and captured Norrington.

Only to have the man escape from the brig, making the crew look like incompetents, and then bloody well kipping over in fever! So Jack not only had try and save the blasted man who'd tried to hang him more than once, but he also had to give up his bed and his personal space. And how was he repaid? The one night he'd attempted to reclaim his bed, the bastard pushed him right out!

Well, served him right for interfering with navy 'affairs'. What had made him try anything, in any case? It wasn't as if Captain Jack Sparrow didn't have his choice of bedmates.

It was those eyes, he decided. Green like the sea, and expressing plenty of her temperament, but lovely all the same. And the man looked so vulnerable and appealing, it was no wonder a body was taken in. Lovely body, too, come to think of it... No! Leave Norrie alone and find safer prey--pastimes! Safer pastimes!

Jack looked around furtively, hoping no one caught his slip. Anamaria was a powerful slapper. Then he realized he hadn't actually spoken aloud and relaxed.

Well, involvements with the navy always ended in tears, anyway.

The Commodore was a guest, nothing more, until such time would come to dispose of him in exchange for a great deal of money. He nodded decisively, glad to have come to a decision. Jack's stomach seemed pleased too, and growled in commendation. "Breakfast time, aye?" Blast, he'd better feed Mr. 'God _yes_-- no, wait, I changed my mind,' as well.

Bloody commodores.

He could, of course, ask Cal to do it, or even Anamaria. After all, she wouldn't go and undo all the work she had put into healing the man, right? ...Right?

But in either case that smacked as being something along the lines of running away, and Captain Jack Sparrow did not lack in courage facing a sick man aboard his own ship!

A few minutes later, Jack flicked the latch open with one hand while the other held a plate, unceremoniously kicking the door open. "Mornin' love!" he called, in his best obnoxious manner. Unfortunately, the Commodore was already awake and sitting up.

Sparrow paused, feeling something was off. Every muscle in the other man's body was tensed, like a cat preparing to spring. Or like a rabbit about to flee, the pirate amended, seeing the wary look in Norrington's eyes.

Now that was more than passing odd. Despite the vulnerability inherent in the situation, the Commodore had never been more than perfectly self-assured whenever Jack had seen him. Being strong and upstanding-- certainly better than mere _pirates_-- seemed to be ingrained into the man. And now it was like he was... afraid?

Foregoing whatever other words of greeting the Captain had planned, Jack went to the other man's bedside and put the plate on the bed within easy reach. Norrington didn't take his eyes off him, but refused eye contact. Interesting.

Just as he was turning to leave-- "Sparrow."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Aye?"

"About last night... Was that the price of my continued well-being on this ship?"

"_What_?"

Now Norrington looked away, to the floor, the cupboards-- looked anywhere but at Jack and at the bed. "I am just curious how long I will have the option of pushing you away."

The Captain clenched his fists and had to remind himself not to strike an ill man."A pirate I may be, _Commodore_, but I. Do. Not. Rape!" Sparrow snarled, all traces of the usually friendly lilt in his voice gone. "My _apologies_ for not living up to your expectations!" Without another word he left the room, and slammed the door behind him.

Jack growled at anyone foolish enough to make eye contact and the crew quickly made themselves busy. How dare that man assume-- how dare he even _think_--

Thrice damned bloody navy!

Back inside the captain's cabin, James buried his face in his hands and shivered convulsively.

* * *

"Cap'n?" 

"Aye?" Jack mumbled in response, sitting up from the cot he'd commandeered and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The thing was horrendously uncomfortable, even after three days to get used to it, but at least he didn't have to put up with the snoring of the crew-- or a certain unnamed member of the Royal-pain-in-the-ass Navy.

Matthew shifted nervously. "Well, 's 'bout Norrington."

Maybe not so unnamed.

The pirate captain muttered curses under his breath and reluctantly dragged himself from the cot to collect his clothing for the day. "What's 'e up to?"

Matthew flushed and looked away from his Captain's somewhat less than clothed form, which Jack thought was rather interesting. Especially considering that all the crew knew rather well that he'd occasionally wandered about the ship naked whenever it took his fancy.

"Well... 'e's not stayin' inside your cabin anymore, Cap'n."

"What?" Was the man well enough to walk yet? Jack blinked. Had it been three days already? Then he frowned. What the hell did he care if the bloody Commodore was getting himself into trouble, as long as he stayed alive long enough for them to claim the ransom!

Sparrow had left the recovery and care up to Cal and Anamaria and had done an admirable job of not once glimpsing the man in the past few days, considering that Norrington hadn't left the cabin. Until now, apparently.

"Been botherin' the crew?" Preaching about the evils of piracy, no doubt. Repent thy raping ways and save thine immortal souls! Jack scowled as he laced up his breeches.

"Ah... No, Cap'n."

"'N wha's th' problem?" the pirate asked, his voice muffled as he pulled a shirt over his head.

"Anamaria don't know 'e's up."

Ouch. Jack winced at the thought of the screeching when she found out. "For God's sake, lad, keep him outta sight until 'e tires and goes back inside."

"We're tryin'..."

That didn't sound very good. "But?"

Matthew gave an exasperated sigh. "Th' bloody idiot's _lookin_' for 'er."

"He _what_?"

"Says 'e wants t' thank 'her... D'ye think the wound's gone to 'is mind?"

And right on cue, the sounds of some sort of commotion penetrated the door. Jack and the other man exchanged a look and hurried outside what had once been the first mate's room, then a storage room after the Barbossa incident, and at the moment the room Jack slept in.

And the Captain realized that there was a reason the word _commotion_ was really a very similar word to _commodore_.

"Look, Miss--"

The woman snarled, advancing on Norrington, who backed away with his hands held out before him in a placating way. Not that it would do him much good, as Jack knew from experience.

"Miss Anamaria, I don't--"

"_Shut up_!"

"'E's in for it," Gibbs muttered. Sparrow glanced at the man who'd joined them. "Can't say as I blame, 'er, either, what with the way he's been tauntin' 'er." The pirate captain raised an eyebrow and Gibbs explained, "Well, it's been 'Ma'am this' and 'Miss that' since 'e's been out here, and ye know how Ana hates bein' made fun of."

"He'll have more than just Ana to answer to, in that case," Jack replied in a low voice, making the other two look at him in surprise. No man interfered with his crew, especially not some snot-nosed, high society, rooster. Especially not Norrington!

The Commodore caught his ankle on a rope, giving Anamaria the time to close the distance between them. She lunged at him, but he managed to get free and dodged out of the way just in time. Neither moved for a moment after, catching their breath. Norrington eyed the woman warily, while Anamaria glowered.

"Would you kindly just explain what I did to upset you, Miss Anamaria?" the Commodore demanded with a great deal of confusion mixed with exasperation evident in his voice.

"_Fils de pute_!" she snarled. "An' stop callin' me that!" And Anamaria dived after him again, only to have him evade her grasp once more.

"My mother was not a prostitute," Norrington snapped in reply, finally getting angry enough to stop running from her and taking up a fighter's stance.

The rest of the crew, who had gathered to watch, took in breaths of anticipation. Anamaria was well known as the best bare-handed fighter of the entire crew- she had to be, being the only woman aboard. A reputation that was starting to spread to other ships as well.

Her hand swung out and he intercepted the strike roughly, in a block that was half blow. Anamaria recovered quickly, drawing back before he could take his turn to attack.

Norrington didn't press his advantage, but glared at her and continued angrily, "My apologies if my way of addressing you offends, but that is the way I was raised to speak to a lady."

Anamaria eyed his stance, looking for weaknesses, and snorted. "Aye, 'm sure someone like ye thinks I'm _very_ ladylike. In case ye 'aven't noticed, my skin's quite a bit darker 'n yours- an' my mother _was_ a whore."

"You are a woman, _Miss Anamaria_, and that makes you a lady," Norrington answered with an icy voice.

"Funny how none but ye seems t' think so!"

Matthew and Gibbs exchanged a look. "Five f'r Anamaria," the younger pirate said.

"Seems t' me the Commodore were always decent 'n a fight... An' 'e's been holdin' his own so far- I'll take that bet."

Jack ignored the other two, focusing on the fight before him. If he was following things correctly... then the whole thing was because of a misunderstanding.

Bloody hell. Couldn't a pirate have a single uneventful week?

The pirate woman finally got a grip on Norrington, tossing him over her hip. The Commodore managed to roll to his feet and caught the kick she'd aimed at him, sending Anamaria to the deck.

"If it bothers you that greatly, then I'll do my best to make sure we do not cross paths again." Norrington informed her, and with that, he turned and stalked furiously back into the captain's cabin. The crew parted respectfully before him to let the Commodore pass, but he didn't seem to notice.

Anamaria stared after him, looking like she'd been slapped in the face.

Jack felt a headache building up. Why couldn't the man just act like he was supposed to and not disillusion a pirate? The Captain lifted a hand to massage his temples as Matthew ran to help Anamaria up.

It hadn't been for the fame and glory of taking out the last pirate threat. '_I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself._'

But then, '_For me, as a wedding gift._'

There was definitely more to the Commodore than duty and a shiny sword.

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Oneiriad - How is it you always manage to be the first person to review for my chapters? (gives a cookie) No, Jack isn't a bush-beater. (pause) Heheh. That sounds like a dirty phrase or something. (snerk) XP 

pirategrrl - (grin) Who wouldn't be needy with a delectable pirate on top of them?

HieiTheDarkGem - Oh good, thanks! I wasn't quite sure.

Authoress Pendragon - Aw, but I so wanted winter wedding… (sigh) I guess I'll just have to live without you. (ahem) Norrie? Not innocent? (cough) I haven't the idea what you're talking about, I'm sure. (halo slides off devil horns)

Update 4/25: We could get married in Massachusetts! It's legal there, now.

Raphe1 - You're welcome! Always glad to help a good writer along.

elaneon - Why thank you! Quite a lovely reviewer you are. The hammock one-- was it by Webcrowmancer, perchance? 'Cause one of hers was like that, and I, too, winced a bit. And how on earth do they not fall off? Or you'd think after all the activity one of the rings holding it would break or something. (snerk)

ndm - Thank you for the lovely review-- and you're right about the throw. Thanks for pointing it out to me!

Saavik13 - Hey, glad you enjoyed the story.


	5. E Re Nata

See Chapter One

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_The one French phrase I use in here I got from a website— I can't speak the language at all. It's supposed to mean "from an unfaithful and wicked lineage," technically. I got it from a paper on old French insults, which I thought appropriate for the time period. Except I went a little early, as the one I chose was most used in the thirteenth century. Ah, well. I thought it rather funny.

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Ficpimp to **Tarn** for lovely smut, adorable Jack/Jamie and the word "buttsex" in an author's note. Also an amazing ability to keep to time period accuracy. Found under 'Tarneth' at _Savvy_, a Sparrington archive. Www(dot)freewebs(dot)com(slash)savvyslash.

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E Re Nata

_As Circumstances Dictate _

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James shut the cabin door behind him and staggered through the outer workroom and into the private cabin. Towards the bed. If the fight had gone on any longer... He nearly crumpled onto the goosedown mattress, but caught himself on one of the bedposts. More carefully, Norrington seated himself on the bed and carefully lifted his shirt over his head, hissing at the pain in his shoulder.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Idiot,_ he added for extra flavor.

He should have clued in on the hints that she wouldn't want to see him-- or at least notice that those that obviously didn't appreciate his presence on the ship were smirking as he made his way to the woman. James twisted his head to look at the wound that had been torn open a bit in the fight and grimaced. Blood was soaking through the bandage.

She didn't seem so much a woman, as a tiger. Fierce, that one.

But honestly, how could she have thought he was mocking her? Aside from the pure common sense not to anger a surgeon (because those who put you together know best how to take you apart) Anamaria most likely saved his life; wound-rot was a serious thing. The last thing he would do to someone he owed a debt to was mock them for something they had no control over.

James smiled ruefully at the thought. Most, if not all, of his contemporaries thought he was absolutely barmy in his opinions. They didn't want to consider the fact that maybe-- just maybe-- the color of one's skin had no effect on one's humanity. Or that women might actually have minds of their own. Most of his contemporaries hadn't had the privilege of spending summers with his great Aunt Margarette growing up, either.

Still, how could she have known that? The Commodore sighed, and then winced as the slight movement jarred his shoulder. He was getting rather tired of being judged by other people's standards.

A tiny voice in his mind snorted. _'Lo Pot, meet m' friend Kettle, here._ Oddly enough, the voice sounded rather like Sparrow. He really didn't want to think about that.

James started to go for the basin of water on the table before he bled all over Sparrow's sheets but sat down abruptly as the room spun around him.

"Careful now, love." The pirate that had been conspicuously absent the last three days put a supporting hand on his uninjured shoulder. It was to James' credit that he didn't jump in surprise at Jack's touch. Lord knows it was only the Commodore's nerves of steel that kept him from yelping like a schoolboy who'd been pinched.

Sparrow swaggered only slightly as he crossed to room to wet a rag to use on his shoulder. James cleared his throat carefully. "For all your blustering, you can be as silent as a cat when you want to," he said in apology for his assumptions three days previous.

"Everyone 'as their 'speriences with bein' underestimated," Jack replied, acknowledging his apology and giving an unspecific one of his own.

They not quite smiled at each other in perfect understanding.

--

"HOW- COULD YOU- LET THEM TAKE HIM!" Accompanying Lieutenant Andrew Gillette's demand was a flying piece of crockery, which Lieutenant Groves dodged. He had given up trying to explain himself long before and just concentrated on not being injured.

And it was hard to even try when Theodore knew that Gillette was right, that he had failed.

"You- you-" Gillette sputtered, unable to find words, and instead hurled the last remaining piece of glassware in the cabin. Theodore ducked around the corner, and winced at the sound of glass shattering on the hallway wall. Perhaps is hadn't been a good idea to let the door be removed to shore up one of the walls, but then, the other option was sinking. So it was probably a good idea after all.

There was a suspicious silence in the cabin for a moment, and then a flow of pained curses. Groves cautiously poked his head back inside, and saw Gillette crumpled on the floor where he'd apparently been trying to reach more ammunition, face white with pain.

Forgetting the inherent danger in the move, Theodore hurried to the other man's side. Careful of the injured leg, he gathered Andrew into his arms to carry him back to the bed. The Lieutenant cursed violently at him, but as the pain made him too weak to fight back, Groves ignored it.

"Le lignage desloial et felon!" Gillette finished heatedly as Groves deposited him on the bed. Theodore froze and they both stared at each other, shocked eyes meeting horror-filled ones.

"You..." Theodore said eventually. Gillette hid his face in his hands. "Yes," he replied, voice muffled.

"Does... does the Commodore know?" The hunching of the other man's shoulders gave Groves an answer. _My God._ It explained so much. "That's why he always praised anyone who could speak French," he realized. "And that time—he spent the entire week speaking nothing but it, himself. That was for you." He couldn't keep the awe entirely from his voice.

Andrew slowly raised his head, but didn't meet Theodore's gaze. "You see now, why I'm—why my loyalty—" The Lieutenant couldn't finish.

"I do." And he did. A superior officer that would overlook his French heritage, who would make it possible for him to flourish in English society in spite of it—well, that kind of man was in short order, even without considering the war between the two countries.

Up until this moment, Theodore had thought that Gillette avoided the company of others (excepting the Commodore, of course) because he was a stuck-up little prick. But knowing that most of it was fear—fear of being caught out, of being betrayed. Well. He was more than a bit inclined to be more charitable towards the man in the future.

Theodore smiled at Gillette, who looked quite startled at the expression. "James trusts you, and far be it for me to doubt his judgment."

Looking like he hardly believed it, Andrew tentatively smiled back. "Ah... Lieutenant. Groves. What I was saying earlier—"

"Is entirely true," the other man interrupted. "I failed him, I know that." Theodore got up and started to fix up the damage Gilette had inflicted on the room, to distract himself from the feeling of despair that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Next time we shall just have to work harder to keep him, then," Andrew said, and raised an eyebrow when Theodore turned to look at him. _We_. Said so casually, as if it were something he said everyday. An incredulous smile stretched over Theodore's lips, and went wider at Andrew's answering one.

"Yes, we shall."

Gillette turned away, as if he had revealed too much, but Theodore couldn't keep the grin from his mouth. The day was shaping up to be much better than he'd thought it would, projectile crockery and all.

"What's your name?" he found himself asking suddenly. "No, not Andrew," he said when Gilette opened his mouth to speak. "Your real name."

The other Lieutenant's hands clenched at the bedsheets. "I...it's... Andre," he answered nearly inaudibly.

"It's a beautiful name," Groves told him. "And I insist you call me Theodore. If plied with alcoholic beverages, I might even let you call me Theo."

Andre looked like he didn't know how to proceed. "I suppose you can call me Andrew--"

"Andre," Theo corrected. "At least in private," he added, correctly interpreting the expression on the other man's face.

"In private," Andre relented, rightly guessing that the Lieutenant wouldn't give up until he'd won.

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Raphe1 - :D You're going to spoil me with all these compliments.

Oneiriad - Well, you know what they say; relationships are thirty percent interaction and seventy percent miscommunication.

Elessil - Know now that I never abandon stories. It may take years for me to update, but I will eventually... XP

Saavik13 - You are amazingly perceptive! Are you perchance a psychic on your off days?

Sakurazukamori - I've converted someone to Sparrington? Brilliant! That's so cool, I've never done something like that before. Makes me think back to the good ol' days when Webcrow converted me from Jack/Will to Jack/Jamie.

P.S. What are V-plates?

Q - Like I said to Elessil, I never abondon stories. It may take forever for me to update, and I might edit it endlessly until I get what I want, but I'll post eventually.


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